


when in france

by newmoons



Category: The Twilight Saga, Twilight (Movies), Twilight Saga, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/F, Twilight Renaissance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 02:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newmoons/pseuds/newmoons





	when in france

their home was actually a renovated office (esme had _begged_ to design), and now as an apartment offered one bedroom and two guest rooms. the two women shared the first and used the latter as their own personal work spaces for when they needed time to withdraw– being an immortal would call for _limitless_ social stamina, something even _alice_ didn’t have.

hardwood floors decorated the wide living room, framed on the outer wall by floor-to-ceiling windows which captured the picturesque bry-sur-marne, il-de-france and, from the porch, the marne itself. they approached their stay in france with a minimalist tone and lush style: what little they did have decorating the area that was _theirs_ for the time being, screamed the bounty of their wealth. after all, this was a _treat_ for herself (and now rose), and she did not _plan_ on letting her time go to waste.

alice _whirled_ in place, laughing as she bounded forward to kiss rosalie’s cheek with childlike enthusiasm. joy was _emanating_ off her tiny frame, barely kept from a blur that _defined_ their divergence from humanity. she responded in kind to her faux sibling’s jesting; though the remark a _pull_ in her chest, she did not _associate_ it with the reminder of her partner so far away, but would have _blushed_ if she were human. would that be how they looked from the outside? the brunette simply nodded along before _darting_ out the door first– overexcited as always.  


alice was _alive_ in this city. her smile was _luminous_ as she stepped out onto the street of their apartment, eyes _shining_ as if reflecting the _sun_ itself. she turned to face rosalie, her energy _fueled_ by the beauty of the art around her. she was practically _bouncing_ as she approached the blonde, linking arms with her to better _drag_ her through the streets.

the roads were _ancient_ , a perfect mix of gently weathered cobblestones lined on either side by modern, cream-colored shops and cafes. and, although they had all the time in the world, alice couldn’t decide _where_ to start. she supposed it didn’t matter, as she skipped alongside rosalie. “where would you like to start?” she asked, head swiveling as she pretended to _squint_ against the sunlight. of course, _whichever_ decision rosalie made was _perfect,_ and it wasn’t like _distance_ was an issue.

she _gasped_ when they passed their first cafe and pouted when rosalie made a _snide_ comment about _time running out_ if they stopped at every coffee shop they saw. with effort, she willingly tore herself away, grumbling under her breath (though she _knew_ rosalie could hear) that they _did_ have all the time in the world. she had to admit, it was _nice_ to refrain once in a while, and it wasn’t soon after that she reignited, leaning forward at a store window to gaze _adoringly_ at the skirts inside.  


“rosalie,” she gasped, “you have the _perfect_ legs for this one,” she beamed, straightening to stare up at the other. “come on!” she decided, pulling the blonde into the building with a _mischievous_ glint in her eye.  


if rosalie wanted to accuse her of _taking all day_ , then she _would_.

* * *

though she knew her heart would _thud_ if it could, she could not say _why_. those _plain_ words spoken with such _devouring honesty_ were only _vaguely_ familiar, never before from those _red-stained_ lips. _this time_ was so _different_ , and she had only a few moments as she _stared_ back, fighting the _widening_ of her eyes as she struggled to gain _context_ from this.

their ancestors had been a sickeningly _sweet_ romantic gesture declared by her _husband_ of these last five _decades_. but she knew _this time_ , this _response_ was something she was _stranger_ to, in particular with _rosalie_. no, she did not need to know _romance_ to know rosalie would follow her despite distance, despite time. what a _surprising_ revelation.

and she knew she would do _anything_ to see the blonde smile, to hear her _laugh_. she was both _immovable_ object and _unstoppable_ force for her _family_ , of which she could not have chosen a better lot. but she had only known such _intensity_ for a few. she had never expected _rosalie_ to be among the count, as _closed off_ and _personal_ as she was. she had not _seen_ at all.  


and what a feat it was to _intrigue_ the psychic. what _was it_ she had not been _looking_ for which was to come?  


her trademark grin had melted, replaced with a _meek_ lilt of her lips, and her eyes _dropped_ to study the pavement. this was _opposite_ her memory of a _small_ diner in the south, where her _future_ had met her _present_ , for the first time in her _compromised_ life. the first _memory_ she could rely on as she _deviated_ from the comfortable, _jasper_ at her side. _shyness_ had become _confidence_.  


but _this time_ …

alice didn’t _fight_ the wrinkle of her nose, staring at the piece rosalie held in front of her, _manicured_ nails folding over a _gaudy_ design. alice had _thought_ the streets of paris would not _offer_ such bad taste… but, then again, _paris_ had not _seen_ the pair for long; their influence _wasted_ on small towns in the pacific northwest.  


and so she _sighed_ , commenting with _exaggerated_ resignation, “it seems france _truly_ needs our help. but i will do this, as a _learning_ experience.” and she added, “and _only_ for _you_.”

she spun on her heel, moving with _petulant_ grace (if at all _possible,_ the pixie could _manage_ ), to the dressing rooms to the left of the clothing racks, requesting a _double_ space in _fluent_ and _exquisite_ french. turning to rosalie, she _smirked_ with _reserve_ for her distaste of the article she was being _bribed_ into wearing. but the _price_ of a smile? _this time_ , she would allow it…  


“ _shall we?_ ” she asked, using one finger, curled beneath the hanger which the object of her irritation _draped_ , to _motion_ the other towards her. then she teased, “i’ll even put on a _show_ for you.”


End file.
